Advance
by Deandra
Summary: Eomer defends his own. Fluffy little ONESHOT. Part 130 of the Elfwine Chronicles.


**_Part 130 of the Elfwine Chronicles. The Elfwine Chronicles are a series of one-shots built around the family group of Eomer, Lothiriel and Elfwine. The total number will depend on how many ideas I get for new vignettes._**

**Advance**

**(late June, 3020 III – Minas Tirith)**

Eomer scowled across the room at his bride. It was not Lothiriel causing such a reaction so much as the man with her. For almost an hour now, he had been fawning over and flirting with Rohan''s queen. Eomer took a final swallow of much-too-weak wine, and set his goblet down with a thump. It was time he brought an end to this. _No one_ approached his wife in such a manner except him!

The man did not notice Eomer's approach, and Lothiriel's back was to her husband. Only when he dropped a possessive arm about her shoulders did she become aware he had joined her. Keeping her face impassive, she smiled at Eomer, then turned back to her companion. The other man had faltered only momentarily at the sight of Rohan's king, but now recovered sufficiently to politely excuse himself. He eyed Lothiriel meaningfully before he withdrew, and she nodded her farewell.

Eomer pressed her toward the side of the room, away from prying ears, and once they were somewhat alone, he turned to her with strained expression. Ducking her head long enough to hide a smile, she raised a questioning eyebrow and asked innocently, "Did you wish to speak with me, my love?"

For a moment, Eomer wrestled with his emotions and thoughts. Surely she did not think he had not noticed the man's advances toward her; surely she did not think him that blind.

Lothiriel easily read the looks flickering over his countenance. Clearing her throat and with teasing in her eyes, she asked, "Do you find the mores of Gondorian society offensive, dearest? Did you not realize that many of the nobility view things differently? They often do not marry for love, so they have no qualms about seeking…affection…wherever they may find it. And they are not above seeking dalliances with important people. I was desirable as the daughter of Imrahil, but I am even more enticing as the queen of Rohan. They see no reason to think I might not wish to find more…refined…company than what is to be had with my husband."

There was no mistaking Eomer's horror at her explanation, both for the concept in general and as applied to her personally. And she did not miss that there was a touch of concern about what this seemingly accepted practice might mean to him directly.

Stepping in close to him, she let her hand glide up his arm, ease across his shoulder and neck until it caught his cheek in a caress. Entwining her fingers in his hair, she pulled him to within a hair's breadth and whispered against his lips, "Alas for the men of Gondor's nobility, I married for love. I neither need nor want any other than my husband. Indeed, I am convinced that none could satisfy me half so well as he does." She grazed her lips over his before adding, "You need have no concern over their posturing, beloved. I recognize it for what it is, and it amuses me, but nothing more. Only _you_ will ever warm my bed and know my body. Only _you_ will ever have my love. They are wasting their time!"

Eomer could not restrain closing the distance as he clutched her to him in a passionate embrace, emphasized by his fervent kiss. Despite the rather scandalized looks from several Gondorian onlookers, they were oblivious to the busy hall in which they stood, aware only of one another.

Elessar drew near, attempting to conceal his grin, and cleared his throat loudly to catch their attention. Slowly they parted and glanced up, smiling sheepishly but not appearing terribly repentant for their behavior.

"Eomer King, how unkind of you to indulge yourself when you know full well Gondorian society will not allow me to do the same with my lovely bride!" he teased.

Tightening his arm around Lothiriel, Eomer grinned at his friend, and offered, "Then perhaps you should consider resigning the throne and moving to Edoras. I am certain I could find space on my council for a wise adviser!"

Elessar broke into a hearty laugh as he clapped Eomer on the shoulder. "Tempting!" he murmured, too low for others to hear, then added more loudly, "A generous offer, but I must decline. My place is here! Come, rejoin the feast and save your embraces for when you may enjoy them more fully, and we need not watch with envious eyes."

Chuckling, Eomer drew Lothiriel with him back toward the dance floor. Just as the next dance began, he reached for her, but first he bent low to her ear and growled, "Do not humor them so, my love, or I shall be very ill-tempered. I want your looks and smiles to be only for me. Is that clear?"

"As my king wishes, so shall I do!" she avowed without hesitation, flashing him a dazzling smile that left him in no doubt of her sincerity.

THE END

2/21/07

Mini-dictionary note: Not everyone is familiar with the word "mores" as I've used it. It is pronounced "mor-ays" and means "conventions or practices". It isn't a word that is used a lot in everyday language. Sorry! It's my grandfather and my mother's fault that I know all these oddball words!

And, FYI, this takes place about 3 months into their marriage.

**_End note:  It is best that you read the Elfwine Chronicles in the order they were written. The more of them that I wrote, the more likely I was to make reference to one of the previous ones and something that happened there. If you want to read them in order, go to the top of this page and click on my name (Deandra). That will take you to my profile page. Scroll down and you will find all the stories I have written. The Elfwine Chronicles are in order from bottom to top since ffn shows them in the order they were posted. A few were posted out of number order, but you can read them in posting order or number order since those few won't be affected in the story content._**


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